A 325km off road adventure from Glasgow to Wester Ross, Scotland
23 – 29/30 Apr 2023
Red line = ‘The Highlander’s Return’ (very roughly drawn!)
A previous blog outlined the idea behind this big run/ fast hike. I use both terms to describe. In my heart I would love to ‘run’ all 325 km or so. For the organised ultra runs I have participated in previously that has been the priority though often you were reduced to walking. However I know in my head that in the Highlander’s Return running will only be for some of the time. This is not a race and the planned distances each day are self imposed. The fact remains that trying to do this in 7, maybe 8, days means a marathon a day in sometimes gruelling terrain. Whatever you call it it involves endurance. In the end I would like to enjoy the journey and have time to smell the proverbial roses and reflect along the way.
Gearand safety
I am new to the world of ultra light wild camping. Here lighter means more expensive! Otherwise the kit performs well and saving weight means more energy to move. I am starting to like my…
75g gas stove; 220g gas canister; 500g bivvy; 500g sleeping bag; 500g air bed
A recent trip trying out the cooking gear.
A key category of gear are safety items. Navigation apps and mobile phone for communication as well as a power bank. For second half of route old fashioned printed/ laminated maps and compass should electronic equipment fail. Something I have use of but hope to never use is a satellite GPS transponder and tracker for emergencies. Other items that will hopefully be redundant include a mountaineering cordellete (for crossing streams) and some first aid items. Above all for me a great reassurance is to have a travelling companion Cammie Kennedy with me in the second half of the route. Joining in the second half also means that he will be stronger and fresh where I will likely be feeling the effects of fatigue.
Food
At the most am hoping not to carry more than a few dehydrated meals with me. Rest of the time the plan is to buy food in stores or eat heartily in the few establishments along the way. Estimated daily calorific requirement about 4,000 cals. For fluids it will be water. Don’t want the weight of energy drink powder but am using isotonic drink tablets as well as tablets to purify water taken from streams. Also some emergency food consisting of gels and energy bars. Hot water for tea / coffee and rehydrating meals courtesy of my minimalist ‘kitchen’ set.
Portable kitchen containing pot/mug, mitt(!), stove and gas canister.
Clothing
Mainly what I wear throughout the day. Change into dry base layers for end of day and sleeping.
Altogether the plan is to carry no more than 7kg.
Physical and psychological
Have been maintaining my usual running pattern of 3-4 times per week. Find that that frequency works for me. At my age and stage of life I need to prioritise time to recover. A key element over the winter months is that usually I am in the hills twice a week. Living in Glasgow I am blessed with lots of destinations less than an hour away. In Scotland the winter conditions at 700-1,000 metres and mountain tops can be radically different from that at sea level so it is good preparation. My days of getting faster are unlikely but going up and down mountains also help to maintain strength in the legs. I am thankful for running buddy Cammie who pushes me beyond my comfort zone.
The mental side of things is the hardest to control. The other things I can do something about.
As with previous endurance runs I want to fund raise for Starfish Asia. They help disadvantaged and impoverished children from mainly Christian families in Pakistan get an education. A solar panel system for an average school costs about £2,000. It would be great to raise enough for 1 school, but if 2 (£4,000) that would be fantastic. For most of the Starfish schools a lack of power is an increasing problem. Solar panels being installed would provide stable electricity, especially for lighting and fans during the summer. There is a dedicated fund-raising page set up with Starfish for this purpose. If you would like to help you can donate here
Solar panels at the GCA Home for Special Young People
MV Logos at night in Sydney, Australia Aug 24 – Sep 10, 1979
In a number of posts I relate stories from years worked in ‘line up’ for the ship MV Logos. The job involved various assignments around the world – see line up if you wish to know more about what representing the ship and preparing visits to ports involved.
My initial experience in this role was during May and June of 1979. This had been mainly on my own in the townships of Kota Kinabalu and Sandakan in Sabah, East Malaysia as well as the tiny nation of Brunei. Learning on the job. My next line up assignment was to be in Sydney, Australia – a big cosmopolitan city of 3 million. This would be different. Everything on a larger scale. Permissions and negotiations with many more officials as well as publicity to civic groups and about a thousand churches. I was to be teamed up with a mentor in the form of an experienced line up man Stan.
Getting to Sydney was not so straightforward. I needed a visa for my 2-3 months stay. Logos was owned and operated by an international Christian charity so was also looking for the cheapest way to travel. To facilitate this I sailed with the Logos from Sandakan. We went across a beautiful Celebes Sea in lovely weather to the port of General Santos. This was on the island of Mindanao in the southern Philippines, an island sadly riven by conflict even to this day. After 2 days there I went by car to the regional capital Davao city and stayed a night at the guesthouse of a sister Christian organisation OMF. The next day I flew to the country’s capital, Manila. My host there was a Chinese Filippino and his large, extended family. They gave generously of their time and resources to help me. In the capital I could obtain a visa for Australia from its embassy and also get a crew discount for an air ticket to Brisbane. There were several fraught trips back and forth to the embassy and our shipping agent. I eventually got cleared with a visa and ticket 7pm the evening before my flight next morning at 8am. However due to a mistake made by the shipping agent when leaving ship in General Santos I was also in trouble with Philippine immigration. This meant I was escorted to Manila airport for my flight.
To complicate matters further the crew discount obtained meant I would travel via Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea. This made for a very tight transit time to catch the ongoing Qantas flight. The flight from Manila was behind schedule and my possibly unrealistic transfer time was reduced further to what seemed impossible to achieve. I had all but given up of making the connection with the plane to Australia. In those days airports, aircraft and aircrew were not so bound by security and other regulations. Becoming aware of my plight the crews of the 2 planes involved took initiative. My plane landed in Port Moresby and I was bustled down the plane’s stairs to choose and grab my large suitcase from a trolley on the tarmac. I then rushed across with my luggage to the 747 waiting just for me and ready to taxi. It was a bit embarrassing lugging my stuff up the steps into the cabin. My short diary entry for the day puts it more graphically ‘I was thrown onto the 747’. Any shame at holding people up was dispelled by the ‘can do’ encouragement of the Aussie crew and my perceived good will of the passengers patiently waiting. I was only on the ground 15 minutes! No customs, no immigration and no transit through an airport terminal. I had made the connection by ‘walking’ from one plane to the next. Such would not happen in today’s world!
My embarrassment with my fellow Qantas passengers was not over though. On arrival in Brisbane the airport officials learned my travel had originated in Manila. Apparently I was at risk of bringing in a horse borne disease. “Could I take my shoes and socks off to be fumigated?” So it was that a bare footed Scotsman arrived ‘down under’ – mingling in the arrivals queue with his more sophisticated fellow passengers.
In Brisbane I spent four nights in 4 different homes. Again the recipient of freely given hospitality. From there it was on to Sydney where I settled down to work with the aforementioned Stan. We divided responsibilities and I was given the recruitment of volunteers, training programmes, publicity and on board and off shore meetings for when the ship was in port. He was from Liverpool and about 28 years older so there was a generation difference. Before serving on the Logos Stan already had a successful career as a chief electrician in the merchant navy. He had worked on some of the most famous luxury liners of the day including the QE2. Afterwards he had lived onshore for a time before sensing a call to serve with MV Logos in his fifties. He continued with Logos and her sister ship Doulos for many years, I think till his seventies. He became an elder brother to many young people serving with the ships. It had been a privilege to learn from Stan and we remained friends the rest of his life.
Our Sydney hosts were a Scottish couple. They had previously lived on board Logos where John had been chief engineer. Selflessly he and his family put us up for several weeks, serving us in a multitude of ways. They lived in the suburb of Manly. By car it was quite a distance from the city where we had set up a temporary office in the premises of a seaman’s mission. It was located walking distance from the main ferry terminal. We therefore often commuted to the city by ferry – a much more pleasant and convenient way to travel. There was something very refreshing and relaxing about the trip which took about half an hour. Breathing in the fresh sea air. Drinking in the spectacular coastline views and iconic city landmarks such as the Sydney harbour bridge and opera house. A great way to get to the office and to de-stress at the end of the day.
A daylight view of berth
Perhaps being inspired by the Sydney city skyline and a good dose of the enthusiasm of youth I tried to be creative in my responsibilities. I recall getting a tour of Sydney Opera House with a view to hiring for a concert to be put on by the ship’s crew. Sometimes in line up we could get big discounts on facilities, occasionally even for free. The tactic was to relate that all crew and staff of Logos, including the captain, were unpaid volunteers. Our purpose in port was to serve the local community. On this occasion it didn’t work. Commercial interests prevailed and the going rate for the opera house was way beyond our budget.
Another idea was prompted by the great berth location we had secured for our vessel. It was very near the Sydney harbour bridge. Many thousands of vehicles went over it every day. We obtained a mini airship type balloon with an advert inviting people to the ship. The whole contraption was tethered to the handrail of the bridge on Logos. The balloon then floated to be seen by commuters crossing the harbour bridge. It was a success. Alas as an advert it was too much of a success. The authorities said it was a distraction to drivers and could cause accidents. After a short lived existence it had to be taken down for safety reasons. Ah well, worth a try.
What weaves these stories together? An older English gentleman mariner, an expatriate Scots engineer and his family and the Chinese Filipino family in Manila. Also the help of a large number of other unnamed hosts and organisations. My life intersected with these apparently disconnected people and groups. What united us was not our culture or age, our abilities or occupations. It was our common faith in Jesus and a desire to share His love for this broken yet beautiful world.
The Mosbach team outside the mill building, May 1983 (Yes I am in there somewhere!)
It was at the end of July 1982 that I arrived in what was then West Germany. Coming from the Middle East where I had been representing the ship MV Logos in line up. My destination was the town of Mosbach in Baden Württemburg. It was to join the Operation Mobilisation (OM) Ships headquarters team that was based there. At that time OM owned and operated another ship, the Doulos. The HQ served to coordinate the activities and needs of both these vessels. Some 40+ years later it still serves that purpose though the vessels have changed. HQ staff included marine engineers, deck officers, personnel and finance people. Also others like myself who didn’t fit in to a specific category. I came not knowing how long my stay would be. This was in keeping with my peripatetic life at that time. In the event Mosbach became my home for over a year.
Perhaps against expectations for a HQ overseeing 2 ocean going ships Mosbach was inland. Nowhere near a port or the coast. However good rail and road connections meant international hubs like Frankfurt were not too far away. Along with those working to service the ships there was also another team that was part of OM Germany. Both teams worked on the same site. The buildings were part of an old mill situated beside a tributary of the river Neckar which ran through the town. During my time there there was quite a bit of renovations done, especially in the main building. As I recall the combined ships and German team, including families and children, was about 85 people. To make team life happen required cooks, cleaners, mechanics to service the pool of cars used for personal and team use. Most important and needed of all were people with servant hearts. Those who oiled the rough edges exposed by life in community.
The team consisted of singles, married couples and children. Most families lived off site but would join for team meals when possible with the rest of us. I, along with other singles, lived in the old mill building where the dining room was. My roommate for several months was a fellow Scot.
For several years I had been part of a Christian community on the ship MV Logos. Living in the Mosbach team was another type of community. There were differences. One was floating in a confined space – mobile, with its own, autonomous shipboard culture. I had been privileged with often living onshore but for those crew mostly living onboard exposure to life in the ports and countries visited was limited. Mosbach in contrast was a land based team that was also an integral part of the town and German society. Though different, life in each type of community had common ingredients. One of the ‘common ingredients’ (no pun intended!) were meals together. Also learning to share property, resources and facilities. Such challenges would often mean the need to forgive and put others’ interests first. Not easy.
The OM Ships Director had asked if I would come to Mosbach and, amongst other things, help in the day to day running of this dual team. It would be very unlike my recent job of jumping from country to country representing the Logos. It was a catch all job. Everything from coordinating the team study programme to the practicalities of group team life. Most private and work related conversations were in English. However the dominant nationality was German. It was a struggle to pick up enough German. I had a crash course of 2 – one hour sessions/ week. One task was to sometimes make team announcements at lunchtime. They were usually done in German. This I find astonishing to believe. Nowadays I can hardly think to string more than a few German words together.
Another role was to take church meetings throughout the country. This was usually to share about the work and vision of OM Ships. Encouraging people to pray for our worldwide work as well as trusting that the meetings would bring in recruits and resources.
“In recent months in Germany it has been a privilege to take part in church and youth meetings in the countryside. Last weekend a team of four of us visited a Lutheran church in a small village called ‘Geroldsgrun’. It was thrilling to see how the youth (aged 14-30) were interested in serving the Lord. A sobering experience was to visit the nearby East German border and to be reminded of the realities of the ‘ Iron Curtain’. The border ran right through the middle of a village and on the East German (DDR) side a huge placard read ‘USSR and DDR united for all time’. How grateful I am to be free.”
Extract from a letter to friends, Jan 1983
Strangely, I remember more about going to and from meetings than the meetings themselves. We would at times travel maybe 300km just to go to an evening event. Then return back to base in Mosbach that same evening. Made possible by the fact that West Germany had a superb autobahn (motorway) system. At that time most people seemed to drive on the autobahn as fast as your vehicle could safely travel. The upper speed limit didn’t seem to be defined. This apparent recklessness was mitigated by terrific discipline for when there was signed speed limits. That is, if the autobahn stated 100 kilometres/ hour (kph) speed limit people would drive at that speed. Another ‘safety’ feature was wide lanes. 2 lanes seemed as wide as 3 on a UK motorway. Made overtaking much easier and safer. However there was also strict lane discipline. The outside overtaking lane was only for overtaking. Not for cruising along! It was dangerous to ‘loiter’ in the outer lane at, say, 130kph. Watch out for that headlighted Porsche, a mere dot in your rear screen mirror. It would likely be right behind you in seconds going well over 200kph!
When not on the autobahn it was often a pleasure to travel more sedately through well kept villages. Their presence often heralded by the ubiquitous village church spire piercing the horizon. Between the communities lots of arable and green fields.
Meetings had been arranged for us with ‘old’ folks, young folks and everyone in between. It was a blessing to see the great interest in international Christian work. It was also a joy to breathe the rather ‘fresh’ Alpine air. We stayed at a Christian work which had an orphanage, a home for alcoholics and a home for those with Down’s syndrome. It was a touching work of compassion founded by an Italian Countess.
Extract of a Mar 1983 report to friends about a week’s visit to south Austria.
Travelling to meetings wasn’t all about the driving. Coming home to Mosbach late at night it was nice to stop at highway restaurants and partake of ‘Weiner Schnitzel’ – a breaded meat cutlet. Speaking of food, another nice German tradition was a relaxed Sunday afternoon coffee and cake. Usually in conjunction with a walk in the countryside or in the forest. Sundays in those days were relatively quiet. Heavy goods vehicles were not allowed to travel on the autobahn on Sundays. Each state or municipality had different rules as to what you could or could not do on certain days. Some areas forbade washing cars whereas in others it was permitted. Whatever, it made Sundays generally a peaceful day of rest which I appreciated.
Given the town’s strategic location at the heart of Europe the team at Mosbach was often hosting members of the worldwide team of OMers. They would pass through from all points of the compass. Sometimes we had over 100 visitors / month.
Another role I had been assigned was to help an Argentinian colleague. Spend time with him, share life, help him with his English. It is encouraging to know that he went on to fulfil major leadership roles with the church in South America.
I am grateful to the Germans I came to know. Their great strengths of collective and individual discipline. To share life with devoted, hard working and servant hearted people. Practically showing their love for Jesus by their service. It wasn’t all roses. As with any group of people there were misunderstandings and disunity. To pretend otherwise would be false. However I know I received more than I gave.
40 years later times have moved on. Mega events such as the healing brought about by the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification. Also the disturbing recent geopolitical realities of a war in Europe. I and those with whom I shared life with then have also changed and moved on. What hasn’t changed is that nowadays, as then, the personal call is to live in hope. Like Abraham…
“For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God”.
Hebrews Ch 11 verse 10 (New International Version)
Towards the end of my stay a certain Elisabeth came from Sweden to visit. It’s a long story.
A fair amount of posts over this two year blog journey has been about my past. It has been a way to tell my story. Recalling the past creates a variety of emotions. Positive ones like excitement at the memory of ‘good times’. Thankfulness for people and family. Those that have brought leadership, joy and friendship to me at various stages of life. Opportunities and experiences that have been a blessing.
There can also be darker feelings which may or may not be true. Regret at ‘what might have been’. Sometimes a sense of failure to grasp opportunities. Suspect I am not alone in this light and dark view of what’s gone before.
My story is more than just a collection of experiences. Like looking at ‘old fashioned’ picture albums (suppose that ages me). Each photo showing people, places or times that elicit memories. The question the photo can’t relate to me is ‘what was I thinking? what was I feeling?’ at the time?
For a long time I have been in the habit of writing a journal. Most of it is fairly mundane. Details of my day, people met, chores done. Maybe something I have learnt or experiences. Occasionally some notes are more insightful. Maybe something of what I actually thought or felt years ago. However it’s not inspiring to find some struggles appear much the same as back then!
The temptation is to regard life merely as something to be built and developed. That more experience will somehow add value or meaning to my existence. More experience of course comes naturally with age. No effort required! It seems to me that in today’s world experiences, in and of themselves, can often be ‘used’ and discarded. Much like we consume goods and services and then put in the trash. To be forgotten in the deepest sense. There is an irony in the term ‘bucket list’!
Reflecting on my story should not be an exercise in trying to ‘make sense’ of things. Life is messy and filled with mystery. Neither should I view the past nostalgically. Some vain attempt at re-creating ‘good times’ in the past. It is an attempt at recognising that all of my past is part of who I am today. We are all searching for meaning and significance, to be part of a bigger story.
“One way of defining the spiritual life is to see it as a life in which we keep making connections between God’s story and our own….. The story of Christ is therefore not “the greatest story ever told”, but the only story ever told. It is the story from which all other stories receive their meaning and significance“.
Henri Nouwen, The selfless way of Christ p.71, 75.
Life is unique and rich. We all have stories to tell but may not always listen to each other. What is important to us might not be shared. Your story is different from mine. A word that comes to mind is incomparable. Stories honestly told are not to be compared, ranked with others. As such they can inspire others and give hope.
‘The Art of Conversation’ by Elisabeth Grant**
Every life is a gift. Given by the Giver. It may have been spoilt or misused. The good news is life can be redeemed. That is worth celebrating.
“The son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” ‘But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” So they began to celebrate.”
Allan Grant 